


Miscellaneous Fills for TFA Kink

by NeurotropicAgentX



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Bad Ideas, Explicit Sex, Hate Sex, Hux’s Power Fantasies, Kylo Ren’s Vader Obsession, Masturbation, Multi, Other, Rare Pairings, So Many Bad Ideas, implied sex, in-universe fanfiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-06
Updated: 2016-08-06
Packaged: 2018-07-29 15:34:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 12,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7690078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeurotropicAgentX/pseuds/NeurotropicAgentX
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of my shorter fills from the kinkmeme. They cover a broad range from cracky, silly and cute, to deeply messed up power fantasies and violence. Chapters/fills come with individual warnings and ratings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Rey&Finn, G, misfire fill

**Author's Note:**

> My editor finally convinced me to cross-post all the miscellany. Huge obligate thank you to her for assistance with every last one of these.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the misfire [prompt:](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1082.html?thread=1344058#cmt1344058)
> 
> *incoherent pterodactyl screeching* 
> 
> (translation: niiiiiiiice)

‘Oh no, not again,’ Rey said as the Millennium Falcon started juddering as they hit atmosphere above the jungle planet.

‘Again! What again?!’ Finn asked. ‘The ship feels like it’s going to break apart.’

‘It’s fine, we’re fine,’ Rey said unconvincingly as a deep groaning sound came from the engines. ‘I need you on the guns to make a clearing.

Finn ran to man the guns, nearly slipping as the ship bucked under him like a living creature.

‘Clear some trees! We need to make an emergency landing. I can sling shot back around using the auxiliary engines.’

Finn nodded and prepared to fire. As the ship started skimming the treetops of the planet, he noticed a dark shape keeping pace alongside the ship. It ducked and wove around viewports, keeping just out of sight. He decided to keep quite, rather than distracting Rey, but there was a definite suggestion of huge leathery wings and… was that a sharp pointed beak or a horn?

He fired three shots, managing to clear some ground on the planet’s surface. ‘Done!’ he shouted.

Rey swung the ship around under auxiliary power and her eyes darted over the landscape below her, looking for the break in the thick tangled foliage. She must have seen something because in a flurry of movement she wrestled the bucking ship under control and came in for gut-wrenching landing.

They powered down the ship and stumbled out of the craft. They were so wrapped up in relief at their success that they didn’t notice the huge shadow that fell over them until an unbearably loud screeching sound rang out around them. Finn grabbed his blaster and pointed it at the towering creature. It was the winged thing that was trailing them earlier. It was huge and leathery and looked like it could bite them in half.

Beside him, Rey’s hand shot out and she carefully laid a hand over Finn’s and lowered his blaster. ‘Wait… it’s a weird dialect, but I think I understood that.’

Finn gaped at her. ‘Uh… what did it say?’

‘It just said “niiiice”. About our manoeuvre, I think.’

Finn didn’t take his eyes off the enormous winged creature. Its head was weaving up and down and maybe all those teeth were actually… grinning.

Then Rey threw her head back and let out a long scream that ululated at the end. That drew Finn’s gaze away from the creature. ‘What did _you_ just say?’ he asked as the creature took flight. 

Rey grinned at him. ‘I asked if it wanted to race.’

At Finn’s incredulous look she deflated a little. ‘Once we get the ship fixed, I mean.’


	2. Kylo Ren, T, in-universe fanfiction, crack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this [prompt.](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1082.html?thread=1255738#cmt1255738%0A)
> 
> Canon-typical violence

_And then Vader wasn't at all disoriented by the time-travel and did this really cool lightsaber move and took out a dozen Resistance scum. But then the traitorous, sneaky Resistance members sprang a trap! Lord Vader knew that the loathsome trickery of his foes would mean his death. But suddenly a mysterious Sith warrior dressed in dark robes and a cool and fearsome mask sprang from the shadows and dispatched the remaining Resistance scum before they could finish their dastardly plan. Lord Vader sensed the dark potential emanating from the mysterious Sith._

_"Who are you, mysterious Sith Lord, that feels so powerful in the Force?" Vader gasped._

_"You honour me, but I am not a Sith Lord yet and still training in the ways of the dark side," the mysterious Sith growled._

_"Yes, now that I am focusing I can sense that your training is not yet complete. I could use an apprentice as powerful and talented as you. Would you accept me as your Master?"_

_The mysterious Sith bowed gracefully. "It would be my honour... Lord Vader.”_

_End chapter 1. R &R unless you're general Hux. Flamers will be stabbed._

///

_The mysterious Sith warrior was sitting cross-legged on the ground. His robes spread out like dark ink around him. The mysterious Sith could tell that Lord Vader was standing behind his right shoulder. It wasn’t the sound of his respirator, but the powerful echoes in the Force that gave away his location. Lord Vader felt like a dark beacon of passion._

_"Now focus your emotions, my apprentice, and feel the roaring fire of the dark side. It is powerful, seductive and dangerous, especially to the uninitiated. However, it can be shaped to your will, if you are strong enough." Vader’s voice was almost hypnotic as he outlined the meditation._

_"I feel it, master," he breathed._

_"Good. I want you to draw it into your mind, let your rage and your passions fuel it."_

_The Sith warrior drew the power of the dark side into himself. He could feel it coursing through him and burning out any stray touches of light that may have contaminated him at some point._

_"I’ve never met someone like you before," Vader mentioned. The mysterious Sith could tell that they were staring at each other, even through their respective masks. Vader’s gaze was strong and almost tangible. "I’ve never felt someone so strong in the dark side."_

_The mysterious Sith inclined his head gracefully. "Thank you, my master. You are my inspiration." Somehow he sensed that his comment made Vader smile._

_End chapter 2. R &R. Flamers will feel the awesome power of the dark side._

///

Kylo sat at his terminal endlessly reloading the page. He was getting a lot of comments and most of them made him smile. Several people seemed to think his writing was “hot stuff”. There were also lots of winking face pictograms, which he couldn’t quite parse the meaning of. It was probably complimentary though, considering the tone of the others. Then one comment drew his eye:

 _Dude, he’s your grandfather, right? Is that really what you want from him?_

Kylo hesitated for a moment and then typed out a reply. 

_Obviously. Becoming his apprentice would have been inspirational._

A reply to his reply came up quickly. 

_I meant about the way he gets in your personal space and all the talk of “passion”. You have some majorly weird subtext in your writing._

Kylo frowned at the screen. A final comment appeared directly beneath the last one.

 _Dude. He wants to bone you._

Kylo’s puzzlement evaporated beneath his rage. How dare, how dare some… some… Kylo’s internal rant shut down and he called his lightsaber off his bedside table. In a heartbeat, the red energy beam engaged. 

///

‘Yes sir, I can confirm that the comment originated from inside the Starkiller, in subsection 27.’

‘Good. Who is responsible?’

‘I… don’t have access to that information, sir.’

‘Why not? You have permission to use my clearance for this task.’

‘None of us have personal computers, sir. Only you and the higher-ranking officers have that kind of equipment. Anyone with access to subsection 27 could have sent that comment. Our network doesn’t even specify which terminal was used.’ The tech stared at the screen, in the superstitious hope that avoiding looking at the Sith would be safer.

‘I see.’ Kylo’s voice had taken on a strange tone. The tech blinked rapidly and began to sweat.

‘You have been most helpful. I will begin interrogations in subsection 27. Oh and on the topic of personal computers, I require a new one to be installed in my quarters.’

Kylo stalked off and his robes swished dramatically behind him. The movement looked kind of practiced. The tech watched him go and when Kylo was definitely out of sight, he reopened his tab on the Narrative Log. Disappointingly, there was no angry ranting beneath his comment. 

It was probably wrong to have sent him after the poor crew members in subsection 27, but this was the only way any of them had for getting back at the sulky and dangerous Knight of Ren.


	3. Rey/Kylo Ren, T, misfire fill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Response to comment under the deliberate [ misfire post page:](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/2821.html?thread=4957445#cmt4957445%0A)
> 
> “can we not”

Rey’s hand went to the hilt of her lightsaber, but she held off drawing it just yet. ‘Are you alone?’ she asked.

Kylo hadn’t reached for his lightsaber and at Rey’s question he went very still for a moment. ‘In a sense we’re all alone.’

Rey sighed. ‘Why do I even try talking with you?’

Kylo snorted, the sound distorting oddly through the vocoder. He took a step back so he could lean against one wall. ‘I think a part of you acknowledges the draw of the dark side. I feel it when we face each other and it’s the reason for this… arrangement. One day you will see it this way too.’

‘This isn’t about some mystical struggle. This is about you and me.’

‘We are stand-ins for the Force. You will turn from the Light and prove the dominion of the Dark.’

Rey pinched the bridge of her nose. ‘Can we not? Just once will you stop trying to justify this to yourself and admit why you’re really here?’

Kylo didn’t reply. He was hard to read with his face covered, even with the volatile currents of emotion he was sending out into the Force.

‘Take the mask off,’ Rey said.

There was another moment of Kylo’s eerie stillness before he slowly reached up and removed his helm. The dark bruised look beneath his eyes was deeper than the last time Rey had seen him. Despite that, the customary spark of defiant anger was still there.

Rey approached him, but his only response was to slouch further down the wall.

‘Rey—’ he started to say, but she cut him off by placing a finger against his lips.

‘No,’ she said, ‘I don’t want to hear about “destiny” or “the Force” or “legacy” or even the “dark side”. Not this time.’ She stared into his eyes. It didn’t take long for him to drop his gaze. Kylo nodded.

‘Good.’ Rey moved her hand to cup his chin instead. He leaned into the touch. When she kissed him, his lips parted beneath hers. There was a dull metallic sound as the helmet dropped from his fingers. Rey grabbed a handful of his hair to draw him into a better position to deepen the kiss. His hands rose to her sides and settled lightly, almost hesitantly. 

The currents of emotion in the Force settled into something quieter and more stable. For once neither of them pretended that this had anything to do with fate.


	4. Deadpool, T, crossover drabble

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this [prompt](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1841.html?thread=3001137#cmt3001137) asking for multiple crossover drabbles:

‘I don’t need to know what’s going on. Mooks dressed in identical uniforms, with covered faces, are bad-guy cannon fodder,’ Deadpool said.

‘They are highly trained Stormtroopers of the First Order!’ shouted General Hux.

‘Stormtroopers? As in Star Wars?’ Deadpool’s eyes went wide behind his mask and he reached slowly toward his katanas. ‘Come on, come on, come on,’ he chanted under his breath. 

His gloved hands grabbed a pair of hilts that were slightly unfamiliar. A heartbeat later twin beams of red light emerged from his lightsabers. Deadpool let out a long, satisfied sigh. ‘Oh yeah. Best. Crossover. Ever.’


	5. Hux/Kylo Ren, M, Kylo's Vader obsession, creepy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Misfire fill [for this](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1841.html?thread=3243569#cmt3243569):
> 
> Huxxxxx you creepy manipulative little fuuuuck 
> 
> i love this so much tho

Hux stood in the centre of Ren’s quarters. He wasn’t entirely surprised by the austerity of the rooms. For all that Ren lived and breathed melodrama, he was training as a Sith. The burnt out mask came as more of a surprise. Hux was an avid student of Empire history, so he instantly recognised the artefact. There was something chilling about the blank stare, though the reason for his tension may have been Ren’s presence at his back. 

‘That’s Lord Vader’s old helmet, isn’t it?’ Hux asked, breaking the silence.

‘Yes.’

‘Something to inspire you, or is it more about guidance?’

Ren shrugged. He tended not to speak much during their encounters, which Hux found somewhat frustrating. This was also the first time that they’d gone to Ren’s quarters, though the familiar territory didn’t seem to be making him any more talkative. 

‘Or perhaps,’ Hux continued, ‘you just like the idea of his eyes on you.’

Ren let out a sharp breath. His features were obscured behind the mask, but Hux could tell he’d scored a point.

‘Perhaps,’ Ren conceded. His voice was a little hoarse, even with the distortion. 

Hux began to strip down, arranging his clothes with sharp folds. He looked up when Ren reached for his helmet. ‘You can leave that on if you want.’

Ren was still and silent for long moment as Hux finished undressing. ‘I know what you’re doing,’ Ren said. Despite that, he made no move to take off his mask.

‘Usually people follow that up with, “and it’s not going to work”,’ said Hux.

Ren let out a shaky breath as Hux stepped into his space and trailed his fingers down the metal contours of his mask. ‘I just wanted to let you know that I knew. I don’t want you to stop.’

Hux smiled inwardly and pushed Ren backwards toward his bed. ‘Then I won’t.’


	6. Hux/Kylo Ren, M, Ren accidently calls Hux “Tarkin” in bed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the discussion around [this prompt](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/2821.html?thread=5355013#cmt5355013):

‘Tarkin!’ Kylo cried out, half-gone from the pleasure and heat building between them. Hux froze, his breath stuttering for a moment. 

‘What did you say?’ he demanded. 

Kylo’s expression instantly darkened and he bared his teeth. ‘Nothing! Shut up and keep going.’

Hux dragged his blunt nails down Kylo’s chest, purposefully digging in as he skimmed over a nipple. Kylo shuddered, though his expression stayed tight and angry. Not for the first time, Hux wondered how Kylo even survived, when he let his every thought and feeling show. Perhaps part of the reason he wore that mask was to hide his pathetically expressive face.

‘Do you think I’m like Grand Moff Tarkin?’ Hux asked, trying to keep his voice neutral. 

Kylo snarled and pointedly shifted his hips. ‘It was a stray thought. If you’re so desperate for distraction, I could arrange one,’ he threatened, flexing a hand and making the objects in Hux’s room tremble.

‘Stop that!’ Hux snapped. He tried to slow the way his pulse was racing at that casual display of power. ‘It was an honest question. I’m surprised you even know of Tarkin,’ he continued more evenly.

The objects settled back down, though Kylo was still glaring suspiciously at Hux. ‘I know of Tarkin. The parallels between the two of you are obvious.’ 

Hux swallowed and had to shut his eyes for a moment, as unwise as it was to do that while in bed with Kylo. When he opened his eyes, Kylo was giving him a speculative look. 

‘You like that idea,’ Kylo said. ‘I can feel it.’

‘Stay out of my head,’ Hux said. The protest was practically token by this point. ‘I admire Tarkin. Following in his footsteps would be… an honour.’

Kylo nodded. ‘I know the feeling.’

‘Oh,’ Hux said as comprehension dawned, ‘that’s where your stray thought came from.’ It was hard to spend time with Kylo without discovering his obsessive reverence for Vader. This time it was Hux’s turn to look speculative. ‘You know that Tarkin out-ranked Vader, don’t you?’

Kylo’s defiant expression lasted for another heartbeat before his gaze skittered away from Hux’s. ‘Yes. I know,’ he said sourly. His eyes flicked up for a second. ‘Why do you think I’m letting you lead this time?’ 

Hux gave a slow roll of his hips so that cock slid against Kylo’s. It was gratifying when Kylo gasped and uttered a low moan. ‘So, in your mind I’m Grand Moff Tarkin and you’re Vader?’

Kylo’s eyes fluttered shut. ‘Yes,’ he hissed.

A sharp heat twisted low in Hux’s gut and he bucked forward reflexively. ‘I can work with that,’ he said.


	7. Hux/Kylo, E, torture as dark side training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Through Passion, Strength
> 
> For this [ prompt](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=7367819#cmt7367819):
> 
> **Warning:** not safe, not sane, ultimately mimics violent rape, but consensual. Tread carefully.

Ren stalked into Hux’s room like an overgrown loth-bat. While they both had the security clearance to access each other’s rooms, there was usually an understanding that they didn’t.

‘What is it, Ren?’ Hux asked, without looking up from his reports. There was no need to encourage the breach of protocol. 

‘Is it fun for you to thwart me? Do you sit around thinking up new ways to interfere with my training and my Mission?’

Hux could _hear_ the capital letter on mission. ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I do. Think of it as repayment for all the structural damage you do. What imagined slight has brought you here this time?’

Hux finally stood up and turned around. Ren was breathing heavily through that stupid mask and his fists were clenched. At least he wasn’t reaching for his lightsaber yet. ‘Don’t play dumb with me. I filled out one of your kriffing forms to requisition stormtroopers and you denied me.’

Hux stared at Ren. ‘You mean the requisition for, and I quote, “torture and violent sex”? I assumed it was an elaborate joke. You have to have known that I wasn’t going to hand stormtroopers over to you for torture and rape, just because you were bored.’

After spending time with Ren, Hux had managed to identify the subtle differences in the degrees of Ren’s melodramatic anger. Right now he was livid, if Hux was any judge. ‘How _dare_ you?’ Ren hissed. ‘This isn’t some whim or entertainment. I need to experience pain, passion and rage to strengthen my connection to the dark side. Not that I’d expect some Force-null, ignorant little toy soldier to understand.’

Hux stamped hard on his own temper. Ren’s taunts had a way of getting under his skin. The only consolation was that he was just as likely to respond to barbs. Hux took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘Are you saying that you tried to requisition troops to torture you and then fuck you as _training_?’ he asked flatly.

‘Yes,’ Ren replied. ‘It’s not that odd. I know First Order troops get trained in interrogation resistance. I’m sure you’ve been tortured as part of training.’

Hux’s expression darkened as memories rose unbidden in his mind. They were vivid and somehow more real than usual. ‘Are you in my head?’ he accused.

Ren shrugged, but the memories receded. Hux suspected there was a smirk lurking beneath Ren’s helmet.

‘I’m not authorising that kind of use of First Order resources. Besides, it wouldn’t be good for morale,’ Hux said. 

‘So you _are_ thwarting me.’

‘This is my command and I’m not going to let you commandeer highly trained personnel into your arcane and hateful rituals!’

‘I am learning from the Supreme Leader himself, and you are getting in my way!’

‘If you need it so much, I’d be _happy_ to hurt you!’ Hux shouted.

There was a beat of silence. ‘Fine,’ Ren growled.

Hux gaped at him. ‘What?’ 

‘It’s not ideal, but it should work. You hate me and I can use that.’ Ren was sounding contemplative now. That was definitely worse than the anger.

‘It wasn’t a serious offer.’

Ren was silent for a long moment. Sometimes he was very hard to read behind that mask. ‘It should be. I need dark emotions for the next stage of my training. You won’t give me your precious stormtroopers, so you might as well do it. Besides,’ here Ren glided forward and tilted his head thoughtfully, ‘you want to hurt me. You’d like to see me suffer. I can feel it.’

It took considerable effort not to take a step back. Hux could feel his pulse racing, though he couldn’t quite grasp the exact emotion behind it. He glared at Ren. ‘Stay out of my head.’

‘Help me train,’ Ren retorted.

Hux stared at Ren for a moment longer. ‘Fine. I’ll help you with this, but in return you stop destroying equipment.’

‘I can’t make that promise.’

‘At least _try_ ,’ Hux said.

Ren nodded. ‘Fine.’

Hux looked around his room at the complete lack of appropriate restraints or torture devices. ‘Did you want to go down to interrogation?’

‘No. I have what I need in my quarters.’

///

That was how Hux found himself in the middle of Ren’s bedroom. ‘Is all this really necessary?’ he asked. 

‘Yes. The process actually is somewhat ritualised and the whip is an important artefact,’ Ren said.

Hux eyed the implement one more time before casting his gaze to the chains that Ren had somehow fixed to the ceiling of his quarters. There was probably damage to both the ceiling and the floor of the level above it. 

Hux sighed. ‘Alright, strip down. I assume you want to be restrained.’

Ren nodded and reached for his helmet. Hux didn’t often see his uncovered face. Right now, it bore an expression of intense determination. His eyes were as hard as chips of stone. 

Hux tried to remain unaffected as Ren bared himself. However, the lean muscles bunching under his skin were intriguing and Ren had a surprising crispness to his actions. It was a pleasure to watch him move. Soon Ren was completely naked and standing unselfconsciously in the centre of his room. Hux moved toward the dangling chains and beckoned Ren over.

Ren obeyed silently and held his arms above his head without needing to be prompted. The unquestioning cooperation was getting to Hux more than he’d like to admit. He cleared his throat once he had Ren secured. ‘So you want me to hurt you and then fuck you?’

‘Yes. But I also want you to indulge in your hate and your passions. I don’t want you to be clinical. I want you to let go.’

Hux wet his lips. The idea was far more appealing than it should be. ‘The Supreme Leader wouldn’t want me breaking his protégé. What if I go too far?’

Ren smiled. It was not a pleasant expression. ‘You won’t.’

‘If I were to actually let go, I might,’ Hux grudgingly admitted.

‘You won’t,’ Ren repeated. ‘Besides. I could always stop you.’ Both of them were silent for a moment before Ren spoke up again. For the first time, his words seemed to come reluctantly. ‘You should know that I’m not… perfectly strong. Yet. I might ask you to stop – even beg. Don’t listen to me. Keep going and if I really need you to stop, I’ll _make_ you.’

Hux let out a slow breath in a bid to calm his racing heartbeat. It was all too easy to imagine the things that could go wrong here. He could snap and end up doing something against the wishes of Leader Snoke before Ren could stop him. _Ren_ might snap and throw him across the room without intending to. This was arguably more dangerous to his position than his last tactical decision.

Hux picked up the whip. It was unadorned and supple, made from the hide of some creature, and brutally thin. He knew enough about pressure and forces to realise that it would cut nearly as easily as a blade if he used it with any kind of strength. Ren appeared completely relaxed where he stood, letting the chains around his wrists take most of the weight of his arms. It couldn’t have been comfortable. Hux supposed that was the point.

Hux took a deep breath and brought the whip down across Ren’s back. It made a rather impressive cracking sound, but he’d pulled the strike a lot. Even so, a thin white line was gradually flushing pink between Ren’s shoulder blades.

‘You can hit much harder than that, general,’ Ren said. He had barely tensed with the blow.

Hux ground his teeth together and aimed another strike. He was still holding back, but this one produced a much stronger line. Ren barely seemed to acknowledge it. Something hot and dark flared in Hux’s mind. The next strike cracked against Ren’s back and he jolted where he hung. Hux smiled, bringing his arm back and striking out hard. Ren cried out. The blow opened a gash across Ren’s pale skin and drops of blood began to seep from the wound.

The sight and scent of the blood spurred Hux on and he landed the next set of strikes in quick succession. Ren’s teeth were gritted against the pain, but he was unable to prevent small noises from escaping. The sounds were delightful. At the next blow, Ren cried out again and this time the sound was more pained than surprised. Hux growled and overlaid the cut with his next strike. His mouth was dry and he felt light-headed, almost dizzy with a sense of hatred.

This was Kylo Ren, the undisciplined menace who was nothing but a liability to everything that Hux had worked for. His hold on the whip tightened. Kylo Ren who undermined his authority, destroyed parts of _his_ base and terrorised the stormtroopers. For once Hux didn’t need to placate Ren’s temper. It was his turn to indulge in meaningless violence.

Hux stopped holding back. Each strike cut into the meat of Ren’s back and blood started dripping freely from his torso. 

‘St-stop,’ Ren croaked. When he had brought it up initially, Hux had worried that he wouldn’t be able to keep going in the face of Ren’s begging. But now a dark frenzy had seized him and the broken sounds he drew from Ren were driving him into further fits of cruelty. 

‘Please, Hux, that’s enough!’

Hux laughed. The sound was wrong in his ears, too harsh and wild. It jangled discordantly against the sound of Ren’s pleas. Hux’s next blows fell across Ren’s thighs. After a concentrated effort on Hux’s part, Ren’s trembling legs crumpled beneath him. He screamed as his shoulders took the brunt of his weight, and pulled the torn and bloodied skin of his back.

Hux paused. The steady throb of rage and hate had coalesced into something sharper. Hux noticed that he was hard, and likely had been for quite some time. He stepped forward and pressed himself against Ren’s back. Ren choked back another scream as the front of Hux’s uniform ground against his wounds. 

‘I’m going to fuck you now,’ Hux said, with a manic edge to his tone.

Ren whimpered something barely coherent.

‘I need lubricant.’

‘It’s fine, I don’t care, use blood if you have to,’ Ren slurred.

Hux grabbed a handful of Ren’s hair and yanked his head back, noting the tear tracks on his face with a hot satisfaction. ‘I am not going to fuck you dry, Ren, because that wouldn’t be fun for _me_ ,’ Hux hissed.

A shudder worked its way through Ren’s body and he uttered a high, reedy sound. ‘Okay, okay, drawer by my bed. Top drawer.’

Hux let go and stalked over to the bed. The strange swirl of dark emotions was twisting through his mind even stronger than before. It seemed to pulse in time with his blood. Hux wondered what Ren was feeling. He retrieved the item from Ren’s drawer and used it to slick himself liberally, without bothering to undress any more than necessary. Any part of himself that would have hesitated was drowned out by a flood of passion and a craving for violence. He pushed into Ren with no thought of preparation. 

Hux’s breath hissed between his teeth. It was painful, too tight, overwhelming. This wasn’t _pleasant_ , but somehow it was sating a devastating need that roared through him. He surged into his next thrust and Ren screamed. The sound shot through Hux, lighting up his nerves. His teeth were bared in a vicious grin and all he could care about was staking a claim and making Ren _suffer_. He’d thought his desire for cruelty had been at its peak when he’d been flogging Ren. He’d been wrong. 

The sounds Ren made never lost the edge of pain, but every now and again he’d sway back to meet one of Hux’s thrusts. He wanted it and the fact of that inflamed Hux’s hunger and rage equally. He dug his fingers into Ren’s hips, regretting the bluntness of his nails. He wanted to draw blood rather than simply leave a handful of bruises to fade away.

‘Is this what you wanted, Ren?’ Hux demanded.

Ren choked on a sob. ‘Please, Hux, touch me!’

Hux redoubled his efforts. ‘No! You’ll come from this or not at all.’

If Ren’s response contained any coherent words, they were lost beneath the sound of his groan. Hux chased the feeling of pleasure that threaded beneath the unpleasantly harsh friction and the overwhelming force of his rage. Ren’s movements had become more focused too. Every shift of his body must have been agony, but the knight was clearly seeking something. Hux wasn’t entirely sure it was pleasure. 

Sensation sparked through Hux and he knew he was getting close. His hips slammed forward, losing rhythm, and just as he was on the edge, he bit into the ragged skin of Ren’s shoulder. He came with the taste of Ren’s blood flooding his mouth. 

Whether it was the extra pain, some sort of resonance, or sheer desperation, Ren cried out in that exact moment. He tensed around Hux in the throes of his own climax. Hux pulled out, brutally enough to hurt both of them. Ren’s final weak cry filled him with satisfaction.

Then the feeling dissipated. Something like normality returned and Hux’s thoughts no longer seemed too sharp and too searing. Instead a dull fatigue crept into the spaces left by the sudden absence of his hate and passion. He sat down on the solitary chair in Ren’s room. In contrast, Ren seemed energised, despite the blood that was just starting to dry across his back. The chains slithered loose, like some living creature, with no more than a flick of Ren’s hand. He stretched out his shoulders and back, humming at what must have been substantial pain.

‘You should get over to med,’ Hux said, vaguely horrified by the extent of Ren’s injuries.

‘This is fine, you did well.’

Hux snorted. 

Ren drifted closer, still entirely naked. ‘No, I mean it. Who would have thought that someone so Force-null would be capable of attuning to the dark side so… thoroughly.’ His expression was hungry and his eyes glittered with something feral. Hux wondered if that’s what _he’d_ looked like moments ago. Ren stepped back. ‘You’re welcome to use my ’fresher after I’m done.’

Hux wondered if he would be capable of standing by that time. ‘I’ll be fine. Thank you,’ he said stiffly. The front of his uniform was covered in blood. What had he been _thinking_? At least the black should hide it until he could get back to his own rooms.

Ren gave a rolling shrug and disappeared into the ’fresher that split off from his bedroom. Moments later he returned and threw a towel at Hux. It was a bad throw and Hux caught it clumsily, but he was oddly touched by the gesture. 

‘Would you do this again, if I asked?’ Ren inquired from the doorway. 

Hux stared for a long moment. Whatever had happened between them hadn’t been… normal. The Force was something that Hux only considered in the abstract, when he bothered to think about it at all. The nature of the ‘dark side’ was even less clear to him. Still, having something that came from inside him, or otherwise, encouraging him to let go… well, there was value in that.

Hux wet his lips. ‘I might do this again. If you begged me.’

Ren stared at Hux. Then he laughed. ‘Oh, you’ll do nicely, general.’


	8. Hux/Kylo, E, sketching, masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this [ prompt](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3961.html?thread=8164985#cmt8164985):

The training rooms and simulations didn’t do Ren justice. Hux was willing to admit that. In battle, the way he moved was sleek and deadly, like some sort of predatory animal. Like a weapon. Hux had always been fascinated by weaponry, by the power and elegance of a blaster, a ship cannon or… well. By something like the Knight of Ren.

Hux took a long sip of his Tarul wine and put the finishing touches on his painstakingly accurate anatomical diagram. He’d drawn out the generic musculature of a human enough times to have lost count. What made this item different was that he’d placed it in the same folder containing the schematics to Hux’s favourite historical ships and his imagined diagrams of theoretical ships. 

Hux stared at his completed diagram for a long moment. It was meticulous, accurate, every part of Ren’s likely anatomy had been rendered clinically and precisely. He drew a large strike through the picture. Then he wiped the document completely. 

It was all wrong. There wasn’t any sense of Ren in those careful lines, none of that lethal power. The proportions were him, undoubtedly, the musculature rendered faithfully, but it was missing the _substance_ of him.

Hux opened a new document and drew an arching line across it with his stylus. _That_ was the sweep of the lightsaber. It had moved through flesh as surely as it had through the air. Hux stared at the single line for a long moment. Then he drew another, this one trying to give sense of Ren’s movement, the force behind the blow. Three more lines joined the page to indicate the set of his shoulders, the line of his back and the placement of his hips. It was imprecise, more a collection of his impressions about Ren and nothing like Hux’s usual technical work. His hand hovered over the delete icon, and then withdrew. 

He added more detail, this time sketching in more lines of movement and the physical structures behind them. The blunt, ugly lines of the lightsaber hilt appeared. He spent a good half-hour detailing the exact position of Ren’s fingers around the grip and the flex of the tendons in his hand. That was more like his usual sketches, but there was something more here, a sort of heat.

He started rendering the muscles of the torso and limbs. Then he lifted the stylus and paused over the indistinct oval of Ren’s head. Drawing in a face wouldn’t work. Hux recognised his limitations, and besides, it wouldn’t be appropriate. The power behind Ren’s strikes came from his body, so it made sense to omit the robes that were just getting in the way of that. Similarly, when he was drawing Ren-as-the-weapon and not Ren-as-the-person, it would be better to detail the helmet. 

Hux worked more intensely than he had for months. His wine lay untouched as he drew and re-drew, forcing his style to bend to the impossible lines of Ren’s movement, trying desperately to capture the grace and elegance of his combat manoeuvres. 

He shuddered as he added in a speckling of blood to Ren’s hand and the hilt of his unstable weapon. It wasn’t technically a part of the schematics, but it felt right, evoking the feel of Ren on the battlefield.

Finally, the image was finished. Hux drained his glass in two smooth gulps and then held his datapad at arm’s length. His eyes traced the lines he’d drawn, letting his sight blur slightly to better see the image as a whole. He turned it this way and that, until the reflective lights in his room flashed off the corners of his screen.

It didn’t look much like Ren in terms of accuracy, but here was the sense of Ren that Hux’s earlier clinical diagram had been missing. This was the weapon, the lethal power in Ren’s flesh and will, transposed onto the page. The lines of his body and his lightsaber nearly crackled to life from the screen. It was nothing like any of Hux’s other drawings. It was too emotional, too raw to be anything other than… an homage. 

Hux’s free hand wandered down his body to rest at the apex of his thighs. He’d been half-hard during the sketching and having the final product before him was only escalating things. Hux appreciated power in all its forms and something about the elegant lethality in the image was starkly appealing.

The Tarul wine filled him with a pleasant dull heat and Hux unfastened his uniform trousers and pushed them down around his thighs. He took his cock in hand and gave it a few languid strokes. A slow pleasure built inside him. He placed his datapad on his desk, but propped it up, so he could watch the image.

Hux told himself that this wasn’t about Ren. This was power and weapons and violence. His breath came heavier as he continued touching himself, his eyes still fixed on his sketch. It had been a pleasure watching Ren kill, seeing all that raw energy directed against the enemies of the First Order, Hux’s enemies. 

His hand sped up as he imagined being able to direct and control that power as easily as firing a blaster or the weapons on the ship. Pleasure surged through Hux as he added a slight twist to the movements of his hand over his cock. His eyes were half lidded now as he tried to keep his sketch in view. Ren’s musculature was mostly guesswork, but his frame contained enough power for Hux to extrapolate. He wondered exactly what the lines of Ren’s body would look like, especially in the midst of combat.

Hux came with a choked-off moan, spilling over his hand and thighs. The pleasure left him lethargic and his thoughts slid away from him. He cleaned himself up as best he could before standing. He’d clean up properly in his ’fresher. When he came back he’d decide whether he wanted to erase the image he’d made. It wasn’t a proper schematic and had no place in his neat folder. He could always call it something innocuous like ‘Weapon’ and bury it in one of his other folders.

///

Months later Hux was preparing a dossier on the extent of Resistance and First Order armaments. Phasma had requested a full write-up for her latest mission against a new Resistance base that had discovered. Hux sneered. He had better things to do than prepare data for a likely half-literate soldier who probably wouldn’t even read the kriffing thing. 

He put in the barest minimum of effort, merging any relevant documents into one large ‘report’. He didn’t bother reading through the files, knowing that his impeccable labelling system would do most of the work for him. It took less than an hour to put it together and send it off. The glut of information should keep Phasma off his back and maybe make her think twice before bothering him with combat trivialities. 

After a few more hours, just as Hux had been making some headway with the latest cargo reports, Phasma sent a message back to him. Hux opened it with a weary sigh.

 _It was an interesting choice of yours to list Kylo as one of our weaponry assets,_ Phasma had sent. _Impressive initiative, general._

Hux frowned and sent back, _what are you talking about?_

Phasma’s reply was a single file. When Hux opened it he blanched.

Phasma sent one final message _I think you captured him well, for a civilian._

Hux gritted his teeth, deciding that it wasn’t worth pointing out that general was indeed a _military_ rank. Besides, his screen indicated that Phasma had signed off, likely to read through the rest of Hux’s dossier. He really hoped she wouldn’t tell Ren.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Special thanks to my guest editor who knew what sketching was and fixed… all of this.


	9. Hux/Tarkin, E, one-sided fantasy, masturbation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blow Up a Planet, Blow Up a System
> 
> For this [ prompt](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/1841.html?thread=2756401#cmt2756401):

Hux was hoarse and exhausted after pulling a triple shift on the bridge. The Starkiller was taking shape around him and it was getting harder and harder to pull himself away from his life’s work. It didn’t help that Ren had been making even more of a nuisance of himself than usual. Hux had begun leaving wide margins on his requisitions for parts, under the assumption that the errant knight would end up damaging components during his tantrums. What Hux wouldn’t give for some measure of control over Ren, but the Supreme Leader had made it very clear that the knights, and Ren in particular, were beyond the military hierarchy. 

Hux finally managed to pull himself away from his command and made his way to his quarters. Keyed up as he was, his body was still demanding sleep. Once inside, with the door firmly secured against intrusion, he stripped down and changed into sleepwear. He sighed deeply and contentedly as he slid under his covers.

Long moments passed and Hux was still unable to sleep. He tossed and turned, vainly trying to turn off his thoughts. Changing the percentage of light and temperature in his quarters made no difference. He lay on his back and stared at his ceiling. Columns of figures and schematics for Starkiller weaponry danced in his mind’s eye. He desperately needed a way to stop thinking. His options were limited, but he eventually settled on an acceptable plan.

In the end, masturbation was another bodily function like eating or the sleep that was currently eluding him. Hux knew that an orgasm would help him relax and likely slow his body and mind enough that he would be able to fall asleep. Satisfied with the justification, he flipped back his bedcovers and bared himself to the darkened room. He spat into his hand and wrapped it around his half-hard cock, lazily stroking himself. 

Thoughts of his duty shift invaded his mind. With the Starkiller so close to completion, he’d been running himself into the ground. With all his spare time occupied by logistics and resources, it was no surprise that they would intrude on his thoughts, even now. It would be worth it, though. The Starkiller was a weapon to rival the firepower of the old Empire at its peak. It was something worthy of the legacy of the great Grand Moff Tarkin. 

Hux’s grip tightened involuntarily at the thought of his idol. Tarkin exemplified everything that Hux admired about the Empire. He was a man who would abandon sentiment and sacrifice anything to secure victory. He had commanded legions and a dangerous force user, and overseen the destruction of a planet. Hux groaned. These thoughts were surprisingly effective. 

Hux felt a twinge of embarrassment about masturbating while thinking of his hero, but it was soon swept away beneath a wave of lust. Hux’s eyes slid shut and let himself sink into a fantasy. 

Hux walked through the corridors of the Starkiller Base with Tarkin keeping step beside him. In Hux’s mind, the man cut an imposing figure, combining a harsh military discipline with complete self-assurance. His stride was precise and he exuded an aura of command. When they arrived at the bridge, Tarkin’s sharp eyes roved over the command stations and control interfaces, taking in every detail. 

Hux pointed out the interesting features and key aspects of the design. If he was a little breathless, the Grand Moff was gracious enough not to point it out. Tarkin hummed and ran one gloved hand over the contours of a console interface in a way that was half admiring and half avaricious. 

‘Very impressive, General.’

In his room, Hux’s hips jerked upward and his breath stuttered in his chest. A distant part of himself was embarrassed by the profound effect that image had over him. A larger part was more concerned with imagining the exact tone of Tarkin’s approval and the look of his thin smile. This contemplation seemed to open the floodgate of Hux’s fantasies. In his mind the scene shifted to something far less innocent.

Hux stood in the empty bridge before the controls of the deadliest weapon in the galaxy. Tarkin was behind him now, close enough that the heat of his body was perceptible, even through the combined layers of their uniforms. Hux could feel the Grand Moff’s breath just behind his ear. ‘This is the shape of triumph,’ Tarkin said. ‘A leader must be prepared to do anything, break any code, to achieve victory.’ 

‘Yes, sir,’ Hux agreed fervently. 

Tarkin made a pleased sound in the back of his throat. ‘I think you have the will to do what is necessary, General.’ His hands came up to grip Hux’s shoulders. The sensation sent a shiver down Hux’s back and he leaned forward to splay his hands over the control panel. One of Tarkin’s hands slid to grasp his chin. Hux let his head be pulled up to the side and he instantly parted his lips beneath Tarkin’s bruising, possessive kiss.

Tarkin’s other hand trailed down his front to trace the outline of Hux’s erection through his uniform. Hux gasped into their kiss, his hips jerking forward at the light touch. He could feel Tarkin smirking against his lips, enjoying the involuntary responses that he was drawing out.

In his room, Hux rutted against his hand, wrapped in the fantasy of Tarkin touching him, controlling him. This was the man who outranked Vader himself. Hux’s imagination provided beautiful images of ranks of deferential soldiers and a volatile Force-sensitive who heeded the commands of his superior. Hux envisaged Vader’s respectful nod as he complied with one of Tarkin’s orders.

His thoughts slipped back to the bridge. Tarkin was a solid presence against Hux’s back. He carelessly loosened Hux’s uniform, shoving his pants down around his thighs. Hux shivered at the contrast between the cold air and Tarkin’s hot, tight grip.

‘When this base is finished, it will be truly worthy of my legacy. You will destroy _worlds_ ,’ Tarkin said.

Hux’s eyes slid closed and he bucked mindlessly into Tarkin’s hand. ‘Yes, yes please,’ Hux panted, uncertain whether he was referring to the vision of power or the pleasure that was lighting his nerves on fire. 

‘You forget yourself,’ Tarkin admonished, his voice completely cool despite the way Hux was writhing in front of him.

‘ _Sir!_ ’ 

‘Better,’ Tarkin said. ‘As you were, General.’

In his bed, Hux arched into his hand – _Tarkin’s hand_ – and came with a choked curse. The pleasure swept through him, leaving a heavy, satisfied sensation in its wake. His whole body tingled in the aftermath and even the sheets pooled around his legs felt like sweet torture against his over-sensitive skin. He lay there for a long moment, catching his breath, before he fumbled for something to wipe off his hand and stomach.

That had been a lot more intense than he’d expected. Masturbation was usually a straightforward, near mechanical act for Hux. Indulging in fantasy had always seemed somewhat frivolous to him. Hux wetted his dry lips. A pleasant boneless fatigue was weighing down his limbs and it somehow didn’t seem quite so frivolous anymore.

Hux turned on his side and fell into a deep, peaceful sleep. If his dreams were filled with visions of power and the measured, commanding gaze of a long-dead leader, he didn’t recall them upon waking.


	10. Poe/Hux, E, reluctant allies hate!sex

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ace of Spades
> 
> For this [prompt](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=6757003#cmt6757003):

‘You don’t get to do that!’ Poe snarled in Hux’s face. 

The former First Order general merely gave him a tight-lipped smile. ‘If I hadn’t started shooting the stealth operatives this base might have been compromised. In case you’re finding it difficult to remember, I’m trying to prove I can be useful here.’

‘To save your own kriffing skin! You don’t get to pretend that you’re being altruistic.’

Hux’s smile sharpened to show just a hint of teeth. ‘Oh, that’s why you’re so upset. You just can’t bear the thought that I saved your life,’ he said quietly.

Poe grabbed the front of Hux’s shirt and slammed him into the wall. They were in a deserted part of the base with no one to come looking for them, and still Hux wasn’t showing a hint of fear. The worst thing about this was the he was right. The First Order soldier would have shot Poe in the back of the head. Only Hux’s quick action had saved him. The bastard wasn’t even supposed to be armed. 

‘You’ve done nothing but butt heads with me since you got here, with your snide comments and little digs. Now suddenly you care whether I live or die?’ Something hot and dark was curling inside Poe and he just couldn’t seem to let go of Hux or let him get the last word. Not this time. 

‘I care about the success of the Resistance ever since Snoke forced my hand when tried to have me killed. And as much as I hate to admit it, you’re useful here.’

‘That’s how you see everyone, isn’t it? Who’s useful, who can be exploited, what someone’s good for.’

For the first time during their confrontation, Hux’s aloof demeanour cracked for a moment. ‘Yes! That is _exactly_ how I see people and if you would unbend from that overwhelming righteousness for even a second, you’d do it too and be a better commander for it!’ Hux grabbed Poe’s wrists where he was beginning to twist fabric and leaned forward. ‘You have so much potential, Dameron, but you waste it at every turn.’

This time Poe smirked. ‘Are you saying that you haven’t noticed how your way led you here? If everyone’s just an interchangeable part, it means that you can get tossed aside just as easily.’

There was nothing left of Hux’s cold façade now. There was something deeply satisfying about seeing anger come through that studied indifference. 

‘I wasn’t expendable,’ Hux growled. ‘That was Snoke’s mistake and I will see him live to regret it.’

Something violent had been building between the two of them ever since Hux had arrived to trade First Order secrets for sanctuary. Poe had been against it from the start, but nowadays he couldn’t deny that it had been worth it. They hadn’t lost a single Resistance member in weeks thanks to Hux’s in-depth knowledge. No one could doubt that the ex-general was out for bloody vengeance.

‘You were clearly expendable then, and you’re just as expendable now,’ Poe retorted. 

‘We both know I’m not and we both know that it just eats you up inside,’ Hux said with such a smug tone that Poe couldn’t let it lie. He attacked Hux with his mouth, answering weeks of cutting remarks and sneering arrogance with a sudden moment of physicality. The kiss was hard enough to cut Poe’s lip, either against his own teeth or Hux’s. It was hard to tell. 

Hux immediately fought back by grabbing Poe’s hair and trying to use his handhold to change the angle. Poe was willing to lose a few strands and he pressed Hux backward against the wall and slid a thigh between his legs. 

There was a choked groan, something between anger and arousal, as Hux rutted reflexively. He quickly retaliated by sliding a hand between their bodies and grabbing Poe’s cock through his uniform. He gave a squeeze. It was just this side of pleasurable and the touch of pain alongside the threat of it made Poe dizzy with lust.

He tore his mouth away from Hux’s and felt a vicious thrill to see blood smeared on his lips. It could have belonged to either of them. 

‘Infuriating, self-righteous flyboy,’ Hux snarled. ‘I am going to _wreck_ you.’

‘Just try it,’ Poe shot back as he tugged at Hux’s pants. 

Not to be out-done, Hux pulled just as harshly at Poe’s clothes to free his straining cock. In a moment of near synchrony Poe managed to wrap his hand around Hux, just as he felt a tight grip on his own cock. The friction was just a bit too dry and Hux was handling him rough and dirty. It was perfect. Poe bit at Hux’s neck, earning a yelp. Hux grabbed his hair again, but he wasn’t pushing him away. ‘Don’t you dare stop,’ Hux demanded breathlessly.

Poe smiled against the skin between his teeth and his eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of blunt nails digging into his scalp. He twisted his hand and Hux moaned for him. It was suddenly very import for Hux to come first. Poe sped up his strokes and sucked hard at Hux’s throat. He wanted to leave a mark. Hux arched his throat and spilled over Poe’s hand with a hoarse shout. Seeing that moment of unthinking vulnerability form the ex-general was too much. With only a couple more thrusts, Poe came in Hux’s grip. He clenched his teeth against the desperate sounds of pleasure that wanted to escape, trembling just slightly with the force of his orgasm.

They stood in each other’s space for a long moment, panting and catching their breath. Hux was the first to speak. ‘I still hate you.’

‘Same here,’ Poe snapped. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. ‘But I could use your opinion on First Order convoy distribution. We should to talk tactics.’

‘Are you finally going to take my advice about the deployment of your fighter pilots?’ Hux asked.

Poe snorted. ‘There’s always a chance.’

Hux ground his teeth. ‘Fine. We’ll talk tonight. Your quarters.’ He stalked off and Poe watched him go.

‘I look forward to it,’ he said once he was sure Hux was out of earshot.

///

Poe took off his helmet as he left his ship and the landing zone. One of the other pilots looked like she was about to come up to him, but she shied away at the last minute. A couple of others didn’t quite turn their backs when he walked by, but it was a near thing. The lump that had settled in Poe’s chest now seemed to be making its way to his throat. His eyes burned slightly, but at least they stayed dry.

As soon as he got into the Resistance base and away from the main traffic corridors, he pressed his back against a wall and squeezed his eyes shut. He took several slow breaths and was grateful that they didn’t hitch on the exhale. After a while he started feeling somewhat in control. Of course that was the moment that Hux decided to make an appearance. 

‘What do you want?’ Poe asked sullenly. 

‘I was following the battle. You made the right call,’ Hux said without preamble. He stood stiffly with his hands clasped behind his back and his syllables were more clipped than usual.

Poe stared at him for a long moment. The bleakness that had been dragging at him suddenly evaporated in a burst of anger. ‘People died!’ 

‘And even more would have if you hadn’t given the order. I said it was the right call, not an easy one.’ There was no hint of mockery or challenge in Hux’s tone. In fact, unbelievably, he sounded sincere.

Poe’s anger disappeared as abruptly as it came, leaving a hollow feeling in its wake. ‘I think they blame me,’ he said quietly. ‘They’re going to look at me and see the commander that got their friends killed. That got _my_ friends killed…’

Hux snorted. ‘Emotions are running high right now. Your people will realise you saved them once they’ve calmed down and you don’t need to waste your time on the fools that can’t see that.’

The dismissive arrogance in Hux’s response was so typical that Poe almost smiled. It occurred to him that he wouldn’t have believed reassurances from anyone else. Hux was always looking to point out his mistakes and wouldn’t have hesitated to call out a poor command decision. 

‘Thanks,’ Poe muttered. 

Hux’s expression twisted slightly, but he gave a stiff nod.

Poe let out a long breath, feeling a lot steadier. Now that he was less distracted, he gave Hux a long look and held out his hand. ‘Okay, hand over the blaster.’

Hux’s expression didn’t change. ‘What blaster?’ he asked, as if Poe hadn’t confiscated at least three others from him and returned them to their rightful owners.

Poe didn’t bother with a verbal response and just beckoned with his hand. Hux sighed and handed over his stolen weapon. Poe noticed that he didn’t hand over the concealed holster, but he decided not push just this once. 

A strange thought occurred to Poe. ‘Would you have handed it over to anyone else?’ he asked.

A sharp smile flickered across Hux’s face. ‘No one else ever asks, commander.’


	11. Crossover with the Culture novels, T

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this [prompt](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/3467.html?thread=7811467#cmt7811467) asking for Star Wars/any sci-fi crossovers:
> 
> Warning for major character death

Hux woke up. He wasn’t sure why. Maybe some subtle sound had alerted him, or a change in the feel of his room. He was nearly sure the door hadn’t been opened, but his hand automatically went to the blaster he kept stashed near his pillow.

‘I found the gun, try again,’ a voice said from one corner of his room.

Hux’s pulse sped and he tried to shift closer to the bedside drawer that held his knife. It probably would be much use against someone who had his blaster, but it might just give him an edge.

‘Also the knife. You could try calling for help, but even without the soundproofing, I’ve made sure we won’t be disturbed.’

Hux breathed deeply and evenly. ‘What do you want?’ he asked.

‘That’s an excellent question. I could try telling you about the Culture, but they’re not really relevant here. Mostly I’m looking for something to do. It’s like inertia. Once you make a habit of something, it’s hard to break it, even if you’re in a different place and mostly alone.’ 

Hux’s eyes were adjusting to the dimness and he saw the figure of a man. His proportions seemed slightly off, but he otherwise looked reasonably human. Maybe he was a cross-breed of some sort. Based on his largely incoherent rambling, he was also clearly mad.

‘If you’ve truly managed to get in here without raising alarms, then you are a person with unique talents and I could think of some things you could do if you’re looking for a purpose. In a way, I could offer you a _grand_ purpose.’

The man snorted. ‘I know what sort of purposed you’d offer me and I’m not interested. You’d think that at your level of tech, gigadeath crimes would be beyond your lot. But as I keep trying to tell them, pan-humans find a way. You lot haven’t even discovered the Grid; you’re using _stars_ to power your weaponry, but here we are—billions dead and you’re sleeping soundly.’

‘So this is about revenge?’ Hux asked. Maybe if he stalled long enough Ren would sense something and sweep in. Hux tried to project danger and fear as hard as he could.

‘Not revenge, just balancing the scales, I guess,’ the assassin said.

Anger rose in Hux. ‘There are no _scales_ and what you’re doing would be pointless. Even if you kill me, someone takes my place. The First Order is bigger than any individual and the Starkiller itself is certainly bigger than _you_.’

The assassin gave an unpleasant smile. ‘True. But I only need to win one argument against a stubborn ship to get rid of the Starkiller and in the meantime, I don’t think even the Culture would object to me killing you. Well, they probably would, but they’ve always been hand-wringingly squeamish about this sort of thing.’

‘Whoever you are, whatever agents you represent, if you stand in the way of the First Order, you will be crushed.’ Hux’s heart was beating rapidly, but he wouldn’t be intimidated by some assassin in the night.

‘Somehow, I don’t think that’s very likely,’ said the assassin.

Hux’s last thought was that being killed by his own blaster really was adding insult to injury.

///

Zakalwe looked down at the corpse and sighed. Moments later he disappeared and reappeared aboard a ship that was practically on top of the Starkiller by astronomical standards. Of course, no one in this galaxy would be able to detect it at their technological level.

A silver-skinned humanoid sauntered up to Zakalwe and grinned. ‘You know _they_ wouldn’t be very happy with your vigilante activities. You’re clumsy. Another one of their fanatics is just going to fill the power vacuum.’ 

‘Yeah, well they’re not around, are they?’ Zakalwe paused for a moment. ‘Remind me again why I let you talk me into going through a black hole?’ 

The Av laughed. ‘Boredom and a fit of self-destruction? I mean that’s why _I_ did it. I just assumed you liked me.’

Zakalwe gave a grudging smile. In a way it was true. The Abominator-class _Falling Outside The Normal Moral Constraints_ was one of the more bearable Culture ships Zakalwe had met. It was less self-righteous, and it didn’t pretend it was being altruistic.

‘You wish, machine, I’d just had enough of the Culture and their bleating. Even uncertain death was better than more Special Circumstances fuckery.’

The ship’s avatar smiled, long and slow. ‘Whatever you say, meat. So who do you want to kill next?’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Zakalwe’s opinions on the Culture emphatically do not represent my own.


	12. Luke/Kylo, E, Kylo reminds Luke of Darth Vader

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For this [prompt](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/4613.html?thread=10222085#cmt10222085):
> 
>  
> 
> **Warnings for incest, dubious consent, minor violence. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Most messed-up thing I’ve written, to date.**

The nightmares woke Luke up most nights, no matter how much he tried to suppress them through meditation. They bled into each other, always with the same images, the same result. In his dreams, Luke saw his students gradually growing their control and learning about the nature of the Force. Ben was always there too, as were the six other students that seemed to hang around him. 

The dreams were deceptive and started with peace and the slow delight of teaching his students. They never stayed that way for long. Peace was invariably replaced with horror as the scene shifted to one of carnage and death. His students were viciously cut down by his nephew, now Kylo Ren, and the six others that had fallen to the dark. 

Tonight the dream felt different, with the darkness taking on a sense that was both familiar and not. The air was filled with the scent of blood and charred flesh. The dark evening was lit with the glow of a deep red lightsaber. The weapon was an abomination. Its sparking blade was channelled through a cracked synth crystal, shaped with Kylo’s hate and rage. Luke felt it throbbing in the Force, pouring forth the same malice and darkness that reminded him of a very different weapon belonging to another fallen knight. 

Vader.

As soon as the comparison rose in Luke’s dreaming mind, the scene shifted. Kylo’s mask warped before Luke’s eyes into something darker and more fearsome. The blade of the lightsaber stopped wavering and became a solid and powerful beam. Then came the sound that had haunted Luke’s memories ever since his first true battle. Even in the dream, Luke’s hand ached with phantom pain. 

It didn’t matter that Vader had been redeemed, it didn’t matter that Luke had mourned the death of his father afterwards. He had spent too long fearing Vader, of thinking of him as the Sith who had killed his father, the foe that had cut off his hand, the fate that awaited him if he ever turned. In his dreams Vader was not Anakin Skywalker, but the embodiment of Luke’s fears and the temptation of the dark side. It was like the corruption of the cave on Dagobah, drawn from something deep inside Luke and manifested in his dreams. 

Luke’s own lightsaber sprang to life in his hand. He hadn’t remembered drawing it. The corpses of his students melted away and the self-styled Knights of Ren faded as well. All that was left was him and Vader, and their lightsabers.

‘Join me,’ Vader intoned.

A deep sadness welled up inside Luke. ‘I won’t join you and I certainly won’t let you kill them. Don’t turn away from the light, Ben.’ Luke frowned. That wasn’t right. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the intrusive thoughts and the overlay of memories, one on top of the other.

Vader’s lightsaber crackled with raw energy and the crossbar flared to life. No, that wasn’t right either. Vader swung and Luke parried the blow. ‘I won’t fight you!’ Luke shouted at Vader, at Ben, at Kylo.

A black-clad hand tightened around the hilt of a volatile lightsaber and a voice distorted by a mask responded. ‘You cannot escape the power of the dark side.’

Luke shook his head again, trying to align his thoughts. He almost didn’t dodge the next blow from his foe’s lightsaber. It wasn’t easy to fight without striking back, but Luke knew he had to resist. There were too many emotions here, too much raw pain and too much temptation to use it.

His foe blurred again, the mask now shining black, then suddenly metallic and shrouded by a dark hood. Despite the pulsing physical changes, the Force signature remained unchanged. It was oppressive, dark and far too powerful. The red lightsaber struck out again, one moment shedding sparks, the next unwavering. Luke dodged. He was too slow. His lightsaber was torn from his hand, but there was no pain. 

Luke backed away as Vader advanced on him. His dominant foot rolled on the uneven ground and he tripped, falling backward against the hard earth. Vader deactivated his lightsaber and knelt down, pressing one knee in the centre of Luke’s chest. A hand reached out and smooth leather pressed against the side of Luke’s face. The touch was almost gentle. ‘My son.’

Luke’s breath hitched and he uttered a pained, broken sound. ‘Vader.’

Something shifted in the dream again and the constant sound of Vader’s breath stopped. The dark mask before him altered into a new shape. ‘Not quite, my master,’ said Kylo Ren with a sneer that was clearly audible even through his vocoder. The hand on Luke’s face suddenly gripped tighter, the gesture possessive. Kylo shifted until he was straddling Luke’s hips. His dark cloak flared around them both, resonating with Vader’s aura. The Force signature never changed and the thick darkness of it pressed down on Luke more firmly than Kylo’s physical weight. 

‘You held me back, tried to deny my destiny,’ Kylo snarled. The sound of his voice through the vocoder echoed with a deeper, richer tone.

‘I tried to teach you, Ben. That’s all—,’ Luke began.

‘No!’ Kylo all but shouted. ‘He’s dead. Call me by my _true_ name.’ His other hand travelled down Luke’s body, leaving a shameful heat in its wake. The brush of dark side power was deeply disturbing and all too appealing. 

‘Your thoughts betray you. I feel the good in you, the conflict,’ Luke said. The words from half a lifetime ago, spoken to another, and no less true now than before. 

‘There is no conflict.’ Kylo’s words, Vader’s words, Ben’s words. 

The cold air hit as Kylo tore aside Luke’s robes and curled a hand around his half-hard cock. Heat and shame burned through Luke in equal measure. ‘I’ve won,’ said Kylo. ‘Your students are dead, I am embracing my destiny. You can’t hide from me forever. I am going to _find_ you.’

‘Perhaps you should fear what will happen when you do.’

Kylo’s laugh grated through the vocoder. ‘That’s hardly a Jedi thing to say.’ He started stroking Luke. The sensation of warm leather on his sensitive skin had Luke biting back a moan. Kylo’s masked head tilted, examining. ‘You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?’ he asked breathlessly.

Luke shook his head in mute protest. ‘I can feel it,’ Kylo said, an edge of delight creeping into his tone. ‘You understand. You know I’m like Darth Vader. I’m going to be just as powerful as him and I am going to bring order to this galaxy.’

‘You always missed the point of Vader’s story. Of Anakin’s,’ said Luke.

Kylo growled. ‘Don’t say that name! You will refer to him as Lord Vader and you will call me by my real name.’ His grip tightened and Luke gasped as his hips rose involuntarily. He was too close. Kylo’s presence was overwhelming, as was the shadow of Vader that overhung the entire dream. Luke had always worried about what he’d sensed in Kylo. There had always been so much of Vader in him, so much of that dark, powerful Force signature.

‘Yes,’ Kylo said. ‘Give into it. I want to feel you give in to your weakness. You failed me, _master_ , and you’re going to face the consequences of it. Say it!’ 

Luke bucked into the tight grip around his cock. Pleasure shot through his body, barely dampened by the guilt and shame that twisted in its wake. ‘Kylo,’ he whispered. His mind was fixed on another name that nearly slipped through his lips. At least he had enough control not to call _that_ out.

Kylo gave a long satisfied sigh. ‘Yes. That’s the name you’ll scream when I run you through, my former master. _Remember it._ ’

///

Luke’s eyes snapped open as he woke from the dream. He shifted at the damp feel between his flesh and the sheets. He’d come in his sleep from a dream that had played off his fears and off other emotions that lay even deeper. He didn’t want to examine those too closely. 

He sat up and started stripping his sleeping pallet. Going back to sleep wasn’t an option now. Instead, he’d spend the rest of the night mediating and trying to put his thoughts back in an ordered frame. At least meditation was restful. It refreshed him almost as well as true sleep. With time he knew the wounds of his failure would fade, and hopefully the dreams would fade with them. All things passed into the Force and through it. There was only peace.

///

Kylo woke with a start in his quarters on the _Finalizer_. He was drenched with sweat and achingly hard beneath his sheets. Bits and pieces of his dream filtered through his mind. This wasn’t the first time he’d dreamt of Vader, but it was the first time it had happened in that… context. 

The rush of power over his former teacher had been intoxicating, as had the comparison to Vader. Kylo’s subconscious was clearly telling him that he was on the right path toward fulfilling Vader’s goals. The context kept nagging at him, though. He didn’t want Luke, not like that. He wanted to hunt down the last Jedi and destroy him. 

Still.

Kylo reached down his body and curled a hand around his cock. He nearly moaned at the contact, he was already so close. Guilt and shame twisted inside him as his thoughts strayed back to the contents of his dream. He bit his lip, grounding himself with the pain and remembering the sound of Luke’s broken voice whispering Vader’s name, whispering _his_ name, in that same horror-filled, near-reverent tone. Kylo bit back a cry at the intensity of his orgasm. His teeth split his lip as he spilled over his hand, and the taste of blood filled his mouth. 

It didn’t mean anything. It was a dream and a power-fantasy, nothing more. Kylo cleaned himself off as best he could and shifted over in bed. He closed his eyes and attempted to go back to sleep, a mix of guilty anticipation and dread coiling through his thoughts.


	13. Three Drabbles, T, random prompts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While bored one day I offered to write exact 100-word drabbles for the first three prompts appearing under [this ](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/930.html?thread=7902626#cmt7902626)discussion thread. Here are the resulting drabbles and [ link](https://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/518.html?thread=7913734#cmt7913734) to the relevant fills post.

1)

‘They call this appropriate engine shielding?!’ the inspector demanded. ‘Do they expect employees to simply ignore the detrimental effects of long-term ion exposure?’

SF-1623 was having a bad day. The inspector had logged countless infractions on a scary and official-looking datapad. Now he wanted to visit the bridge. To talk to the senior officers. 

‘Look, I can make my own way there,’ the inspector said kindly.

‘Sir,’ SF-1623 said with visceral relief, before fleeing. 

Later, when personnel were searching for missing passcode holos, only an official-looking datapad would turn up, largely filled with nonsense and signed by inspector ‘Doe Pameron’.

2)

Hux felt contempt for Republic security for the third time that day. It had been pathetically easy to appropriate Resistance uniforms and position his loyalists. The guards currently holding Kylo were all his, and he was right beside an ideal hostage.

He signalled his troops and grabbed his target. ‘We’re liberating the prisoner! If you try and stop us, your general dies!’ 

Hux’s trigger finger itched, but getting out alive would be easier without bloodshed. Organa didn’t fight him, instead whispering, ‘thank you for saving him, general,’ very quietly. 

Hux blinked as he realised why this had been so easy.

3)

General Hux struggled while talking to his son. Brendol Hux III was Force-sensitive and trained with Ren. There was little common ground between them.

‘So you made a lightsaber?’ Hux asked.

‘Yes, father.’

‘It looks… good.’ Hux hesitated. ‘Why is it pink?’

Brendol looked down. ‘When shaping synthetic crystals, everything is controlled, even colour. We focus on power while meditating, and most students think of their master’s lightsaber. But I thought about the assassin that came after me. When you killed him, this was the exact shade of the blood.’ 

Hux stared. Then he stepped forward and hugged his son.


End file.
